an ethereal reverie
by Asakami
Summary: In which Life hopes to die, and Death wishes to live. Elsa/Anna. AU.


**disclaimer: **FROZEN story&characters © DISNEY  
**warning: **dark/mature themes, graphic scenes, possible OOC (serious!Anna is serious!), language.

**a/n:** hello! _Frozen_ (アナと雪の女王) finally came out in Japan and damn it. How can I not love エルアナ (or what you guys in the west call "Elsanna")?! This idea is based on my other fic, _decretum_, buuuut I feel that the theme is more applicable here, so let's do this AND I'LL PUSH IT TO ANOTHER LEVEL.

(I.E. I've jumped onto the Elsanna bandwagon.)

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_**an ethereal reverie**_**  
(I)**

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"Help me…" She was on her knees.

Just ignore her.

"… please…" Her head was down on the floor.

…

There was no need for such a creature, they'd thought. She was an abomination. Her presence, her very existence was a mistake to begin with.

Banish her

Banish her

"BANISH HER."

Madly, _desperately, _she shook her head. "No, please don't…! I-I didn't choose to be like this!"

"BANISH HER."

They were perfect beings. Majestic, divine, celestial, _perfect. _This girl—no, this _creature_ was beautiful, make no mistake, but it was because she was _so _beautiful—

"BANISH HER."

—it was because she was so beautiful, that was why her blood would taint everything and _anything._

"No… please don't…"

"THROW HER AWAY."

She was shaking, in fear, and she was crying. Tears stained her pale cheeks as they flowed like blood. She was on the verge of giving up, but for some reason, for some _godforsaken _reason, a voice in her resonated—it told her that she _had to try. _

Two guards removed themselves from their position and approach the tiny figure of a girl. She was breathing, panting. Each grabbed her by the arm and dragged her to her feet. "Get up," they demanded coldly, completely ignoring the fact that if she wanted to, she could end their lives with a mere touch.

But why would she do such a thing? Why would she kill? She—

"I'm not a monster…!"

Shame. She was so beautiful.

Flawless platinum blonde hair.

Clear, blue, azure orbs. Like the skies.

_She was like the skies._

"I… I can control it, I promise…! Please, don't—"

No. She couldn't control it. No one in the past had been able to.

"THROW HER AWAY."

… _no one could control Death._

.  
.

It was odd. For some reason, she had always loved the burning sensation of alcohol that stirred in her stomach. She loved that disgusting reflex that burned in her throat whenever she gulped down a larger shot. She especially loved it when that feeling intensified—where it would burn and burn and _burn _until she could pass out.

Because once she passed out, there wouldn't be a care in the world. There would be no more responsibilities, no more laws, no more divinity.

_The gods wouldn't be able to control her. They wouldn't be able to order her._

She could just sleep.

It was ironic, though. She wanted to sleep, but here she was, surrounded by thundering music and disgusting strangers. The mere thought of this made her want to _kill_. It made her want to take life away from whoever the _fuck _dared to approach her. Grunting, she gestured at the bartender, "Another round, please."

But no, she had to stop thinking this way. She couldn't just _take lives—_

"Hey,"

She turned to the voice. A deep, solemn voice.

_Or… maybe she could._

At the same moment, the bartender placed her order in front of her. Twelve colourful shots align in two rows—quite aesthetically, too. She was ready to chug them all down in record-breaking time.

"I've been watching for a while now. You sure drink a lot for someone your size."

She stared blankly at him for a brief moment, like she had something profound to say. Then, she turned to pick up a shot. Brushing a loose strand of auburn hair behind her ear, "Drink with me?" she hummed musically, for she knew that whenever she spoke that way, they would always give in.

_And what do you know?_

A beaming smile spread across his cheeks, almost instantly.

She couldn't tell if it was an attractive smile or not—the lighting in this club was too dark.

And, _god damn_, she wouldn't care. She was so tired of this.

Gladly, he took the glass out of her hand and without hesitation, chugged the clear blue liquid down his throat. His chocolate-brown eyes never leaving her bright teal ones, he leaned an elbow onto the counter as he moved closer.

She caught him lick his lips and they glistened with a thin layer of saliva. Then came the smirk. To be honest, she knew what the hell he wanted since his approach. Men—no, _humans _were all the same. "Hey," she started before he could talk, and then she moved close enough so that she could breathe against his ear, "Let's get out of here."

His eyes sparkled. "Your place or mine?"

_God, she was hoping he'd say something more original. _"Just here is fine."

The sparkle disappeared. His eyes bulged. "I… beg your pardon?"

"The alley," she said coldly, pausing to down another shot before turning back to him, "You wouldn't want to remember my name in the morning anyway, right?"

And then there was raw hunger in his eyes. "You're right."

_Damn right she was._

He grabbed her by the wrist, pulling through crowds of sweaty strangers who were either high or drunk. Either way, they were too absorbed in their own little world to notice that they were basically being shoved aside forcefully. "Come on, then. Let's get out of here."

She sighed and she was dragged by force. _Jeez, no need to rush. I already said yes, _was what she wanted to voice aloud, but what would be the point? It wasn't like he'd care for her. It wasn't like she'd care for _him. _

It wasn't like he'd remember her tomorrow. Or even by tonight.

They (he) burst out of the backdoor. Not even checking if anyone else was occupying the narrow space, he pushed her against the wall, subsequently attacking her neck with his teeth, accompanied by unnecessary merciless strength.

_What was he trying to be, a vampire?_

She rolled her eyes to the thought. Sliding her arms around his neck, she held him close, encouraging him to bite harder so that he could ravage her, so that he could take her.

_Take her life._

Wouldn't that be nice?

Blood oozed out of the fresh bite wounds on her neck, and the man lapped the crimson liquids up, sucking hard to make her skin blotch.

She merely sighed at this… _sensation, _if you could even call it that.

"You're not very vocal, are you?" He grunted, thrusting a knee in between her legs as his large, calloused hands traced her curves.

She chuckled to this. "Hm? I guess you're just not very good to make me moan."

He smirked to her playful remark.

When in fact, she was being quite serious.

"I like you. I think I do want to know your name after all," his hands moved down, _down, _until he was at her rear. Without effort, he lifted her small body and grinded himself against her. "Take it off for me, will you?" He coaxed gently, pouting like a sad, _sad _child. "I'm in pain."

She could've laughed. Seeing this pathetic human behave like this, she _really _wanted to laugh.

"You won't be in pain," her slender hands circled around his neck. She wore a smile—a bright, innocent, _deceiving _smile. "It'll be over before you know it."

He lifted a brow. "What are y—" and was interrupted when the girl crashed her lips against his.

"…!"

Oh, what soft, luscious, perfect lips! He granted her entrance when her tongue flirted with his lower lip, begging for access. _Fuck. _She was a good kisser. He loved the way she suckled so hard on his tongue, almost like her life depended on it. He gave in, completely. She was so fucking incredible he couldn't feel his legs, he forgot how to breathe, and h-he… he didn't… _couldn't _feel his strength any longer. It was like everything escaped him. He wanted to dig his fingers into her fiery red hair. He wanted to make her scream and writhe beneath him right then and there but he couldn't do it. His mind and soul were escaping him, but he was _enjoying _it.

_Fuck. _

This girl could do whatever the hell she wanted because… god… _fuck him… _he was…

"What… what are you doing to me…?" he mustered the remaining strength in him to speak.

"I'm just…" the redhead whispered between breaths, "… having fun."

The man's body fell limp, but he didn't resist. He had no choice. There was something about her voice—something sweet and gentle and _venomous. _Everything about her felt so right but at the same time, everything felt so wrong.

"Y-you're not…"

And without warning, without even the slightest of precautions, there was nothing left in him. Like a ragdoll, he fell with gravity, landing hard onto the filthy cement of the alleyway.

The girl, now bored, stared coldly at the lifeless man. "Yep, I'm not…" a pause, "_Whatever _you think I am."

Sighing, she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, _gracefully. _Yes, she couldn't forget her identity. She had to do everything in an elegant manner, or _they _would start judging again. Laws. Orders. Decree. Crossing her arms, she leaned against the wall she was trapped against mere moments ago and watched as the corpse below her decay. The smell of burning human flesh had never amused her, but the sight of it definitely did.

And sometimes, the sight of it could bring a smile to her face.

But not today.

Today, her target was a disappointment. _Sigh. _Such a disappointment. He was quite handsome too, so she'd expected quite a bit. But no, she wanted more. Like, at least, let her have some fun, right? Or… or maybe she was just too aggressive today. Yeah, she shouldn't have touched him so soon.

"I'll just find someone else to play with," the girl mused out loud as the body disintegrated into grey ashes. With her source of entertainment gone, she sighed (_how many times now?_) and tucked that annoying loose lock of auburn hair behind her ear, securing it in place before walking out of the alley.

The sky was dark, but it was awake, and there was no way she was going to go back so soon.

She wanted to play.

She wanted to play.

SHE HAD TO PLAY.

She was _itching _to play. This indescribable irritation that prickled at her heart could drive her over the edge of sanity—and _by the gods—_how she wished it could be that easy. Yes, the thought of insanity thrilled her, because insanity could cure her. Insanity could cure the _likes _of her.

Her bright, life-filled teal eyes glanced at her surroundings.

_Shehadtoplay_

People were still wandering around, but they were either puking their organs out or on the verge of passing out in the middle of the streets. How good would they be? Not the least, she'd say.

_Shehadtoplay_

The streetlights were gloomy, but she saw them as living souls, screaming at her to dance, to go wild, to run the cosmos wild.

SHEHADTOPLAYSHEHADTOPLAYSHEHADTOPLAY

Fuck. Anyone would do. Seriously, _anyone _would. She looked everywhere, and she started pacing. She was desperate. She needed to satiate this thirst… or was it _hunger_?

And so she began walking. She walked towards nothingness.

Why was she walking this way? Why, knowing very well that she'd only find emptiness at the end of it all, was she walking _this _way?

She didn't know—she didn't care.

Wherever her feet brought her, she would go, because there was absolutely nothing she could lose.

_The world didn't care for her, so why should she care for the world?_

…

And then she discovered her.

…

_She didn't care for the world, but…_

A girl.

A girl was sitting under a flickering streetlight, her face tucked in her knees. She looked like she was lost, and she was wearing very little—just a white blouse (so white, it was nearly transparent) and a black pair of shorts. If anything, she looked broken, vulnerable. _And vulnerability was the best._

She loved vulnerability.

Perfect. _She was perfect._

But would a girl work? Would she be enough?

She was approaching her, and she didn't even realize it. It was weird, because, _not to brag, _she was usually in control of the things around her. She had power and authority. Right now, though, she felt that something had drawn her here. For the first time, she wasn't in control. Some other, more divine being had drawn her to this place, right here—_drawn to this girl—_from the very moment her feet decided to take her down the empty street.

She swallowed.

This was something new.

_Would this girl be enough?_

And the girl, feeling some sort of strange, _warm _presence, came out of hiding. She looked up wearily.

"…"

Tired eyes. Tired, but sparkling eyes.

_Beautiful._

She was going to be frank. This girl was beautiful. Never in an eternity had she seen beauty in such a pure, innocent, and elegant form.

Her legs gave in and she fell to her knees, all without her knowing.

The girl simply continued to stare blankly. A stray platinum blonde lock of hair fell to cover an eye, and that plain colour of the strand hung there like a distraction, contrasting those magnificent azure eyes.

Those eyes. _Those eyes, those eyes, those eyes. _She wanted them. She wanted them because they looked so free and vast and blue—they were so much like the skies. She wanted to indulge herself in them, watch as the different flecks of blue in her irises twinkle with the slightest movements. She wanted them. She wanted them to look at her, to talk to her. She wanted _her._

"I'm in pain."

… _what? _The redhead blinked.

"Help me."

A plea, it was a plea. The stranger was the first to speak.

It should've been laughable. Really, it should've been.

The redhead smiled. She didn't know why and where it came from, but the urge to smile had never overcome her so greatly. Sadly for this girl, if she were expecting for an escort to the hospital or some sort of shelter from this chilly night, she had found the wrong person. 'Help' from her could only mean—

"Please, help me."

"What can I do?"—but she replied, nearly in an instant.

That weary and sorrowful expression of hers did not match what she was about to request, "Let me sleep with you," the platinum blonde whispered, her eyes fixated on her own teal ones.

Her eyes furrow. "What?"

Her form shook in anxiety. The redhead didn't notice, but the stranger was panting—almost hyperventilating.

"I-I need this…"

_Oh, such a sad, sad face._

Was this sympathy? The redhead moved a hand up, cupping the stranger's cheek and—_how strange—_there was no warmth. No human warmth. She was as cold as ice. It wasn't anything curious, though; winter was fast approaching, and poor girl was probably a prostitute. Or junkie. She probably ran away from an abusive customer. And was addicted to sex. _Ooh, that'd be nice. She probably couldn't live without mad sex._

The corners of her lips arched upwards. "I'll help you."

Relief radiated from the stranger's expression so distinctly, she could almost _feel _the joy emitting from her smile.

_There was something about that smile._

And it had been a while since she'd felt such a way. "Come with me," the redhead said.

The stranger licked her lips.

.  
.

Yes, she was going to help her. She was going to end her miserable life with a _bang. _She was going to show her how the best things in life could _kill—_only then could she leave this hopeless world without regret.

_Because she was helping her._

She pushed her into the room—_the closest hotel they could find was conveniently a block away—_and the heavy door behind them closed on its own. The redhead kissed her everywhere but the lips, moving from the soft earlobe to the smooth neck… and then to the hard collarbone to the heaving chest as her fingers danced delicately over the stranger's thin layers of clothing. She traced the blonde's curvy waist, and the feeling of how beautiful her body was almost made her sad. _Almost._

_Such a waste._

Without warning, the redhead grabbed onto her thin white blouse and tore it open, sending buttons flying. _Perfect. _Absolute perfection. The stranger's body was beautiful, but was very skinny—more so than expected. It was like… it was like she wasn't eating well enough. But that was okay; soon, she wouldn't have to worry about hunger. Soon, she'd—

_Wait._

The redhead blinked. A flash of a second, and she was pushed against the head of the bed.

_What just happened?_

Oh. She was trapped beneath the stranger. But _wow. _Should she even give a shit? She should just let the stranger do as she pleased, for the poor girl would never get another chance.

"I-I'm sorry…"

The redhead smiled and relaxed. "It's okay," she spoke as gently as possible, "I'm helping you, aren't I?"

A pause, and then the stranger answered with a smile of her own.

_There was something about that smile._

"I'm sorry," she said again. She knelt on the bed, strapping the redhead's thighs between her knees and she leaned in. She didn't lean in to kiss her, _no, _she just simply leaned in to breathe. "I'm so sorry," she whispered, planting small kisses on her neck.

_Please stop apologizing. _

Cool breaths of air brushed against her sensitive skin; the redhead arched into her touch and she wrapped an arm around the elegant figure above—_then she just wanted to cry. _She closed her eyes and pulled the stranger close. She did it to feel her. She did it so that her hands could slide up her creamy legs, stopping briefly at her rear and—

_Gasp_

—she gasped. The stranger reacted to her touch, bit onto her skin lightly and made her gasp.

Then after a brief moment of hesitation, she felt again. But there was no warmth; the stranger's body was ice-cold.

_Cold and alone._

The redhead moved her hands up, feeling that arch of the small of her back and sat up, pushing forward gently to wrap her arms around the stranger's waist tightly, securely.

_Cold and abandoned. _

"_Please, help me."_

The stranger's voice from earlier echoed in her mind. It was haunting, but the voice was beautiful. She wanted to listen to it, _again and again, _and she wanted to erase it from her memories. These contradicting thoughts clashed in a frenzied tantrum, and she did her best to suppress the noise in her head.

So, she managed, "I'll help you." The redhead spoke with her face buried in the girl's abdomen.

The platinum blonde tensed.

She felt that, and she wasn't sure whether it was because she spoke against her bare skin, or because she was acting like a goddamn _angel—_being helpful and all.

_(Hah. How ironic is that?)_

But, regardless, "You're so cold." She looked up. The light above the platinum blonde's head appeared like a halo. It turned her into a silhouette and it made her face look so much more mysterious.

_Who was the angel now?_

But _she _could see. The platinum blonde could see. She could see the blueness in the smaller girl's eyes—_they were like the ocean_—and they contrasted the fiery red hair so gracefully, she felt as though she was looking at a painting. The different shades of blue in those crystal orbs that looked so _alive_; the way her hair shone in a slight, golden haze under the light… everything looked so warm. Everything about this girl was so warm. Before she knew it, she was stroking her cheeks. _Gods, _even the temperature of her flesh matched the warm colours.

_Oh, and then there were the freckles. Cute, cute freckles._

Her fingers continued to stroke, to _feel. _The platinum blonde liked this, she decided. She liked this but she didn't understand why she was feeling guilty.

_Snap_

Her bra was loosened. The redhead had unclipped her from behind, leaving the lacy blue fabric dangling awkwardly, her breasts feeling more exposed than they already were but she paid no attention to that. She circled her slender arms around the girl beneath, guiding those warm lips that were travelling up her body _oh so teasingly _and she arched into her touch. Her mouth parting and closing with each breath she took, she finally hitched a gasp when those soft lips reach her chest.

Her face buried in the stranger's softness, the redhead looked up—with hopes of seeing some form of happiness. She figured that as long as this girl was pleasured, then there would be nothing to worry about. _Then she'd feel helped. _But when she looked up, she was surprised.

"…"

The girl was looking down at her. Those deep, azure eyes were on her.

Their gazes interlocked and there was something stellar about it. Like a spark, something inside the two ignited—something in their heart—something burst and coursed through their veins… something that felt _nice. _

And _nice_, to them, was a big deal.

They hesitated no longer.

Never looking away, the redhead kept an arm wrapped around the stranger's tiny waist as her other hand moved downwards to remove the latter's shorts. She pulled at the tight fabric, tugging it down and revealed a pair of lacy blue underwear—matching with her bra.

She licked her lips, unconsciously.

The stranger reacted to this by combing her fingers through her red hair.

_Oh god…_

The way those fingertips massaged her scalp—_god. _She closed her eyes and breathed in. With her so close, she was expecting to smell some sort of perfume, but… there was nothing.

_Nothing._

There was no scent.

This stranger was a cold, scentless, almost _lifeless _person. But she was _so _beautiful.

The words just slipped out—"You're so beautiful."

"…"

Then the stranger froze. Yes, ironic. She was already ice-cold, but she froze upon hearing that comment.

The redhead moved her fingers, slipping them between the girl's thighs. Her fingertips linger at her centre—and _finally, _warmth. Wetness seeping through the thin fabric, she felt an element of warmth. Enticed, she brushed against the taller girl's folds in feathery strokes.

"I…" the platinum blonde spoke out—and she sounded like she was whimpering, "… I'm n-not…"

_Not…?_

She pushed higher, fingers now damp with a substance she was far too familiar with. She watched as the stranger tried to speak, but all that escaped her lips were breathless gasps.

_That's it._

She wanted to hear her voice. Even if she was a cold, scentless, _lifeless _person, she was still beautiful. She had a voice. She had _sound._

So, she pushed the panties aside and teased her folds. Two fingers were inserting, bit by bit, into her warm, pulsing core.

The stranger purred. Like, she actually _purred. _Then she wrapped her arms around the smaller girl, hiding her face in her red hair. Her hips bucked reflexively when those fingers moved in the slowest, most _torturous _way possible. The blonde knew the redhead was silently asking for permission, but _fuck, _she didn't have to tease her like this.

"Please…" the stranger finally moaned.

_That's it._

The redhead let out a deep sigh. _Gods, her voice. _Encouraged and feeling completely refuelled, she pushed herself in—all the way—until her knuckles touched the opening.

"_Aah…!_"

Another moan. Shit. _Shit. _She could listen to her for an eternity, and she was _going to. _The redhead moved her wrist—slowly, _slowly, _out, and then she plunged in again, _all the way._

This time, the stranger threw her head back. Her mouth hung open; her body arched forward as her hips start to move in sync with the redhead's fingers.

Faster.

She pumped into the beautiful platinum blonde. The noises she made were no longer soft—they were sensual, but they were controlled. It was like she was holding back, but holding back for what, exactly? She wanted to tell her to let loose, to simply stop being so tensed. She wanted to kiss her and tell her that everything was going to be okay and that after this, she would no longer be in pain.

_Fuck. She wanted to kiss her so badly. _

But she couldn't. If she did, everything would end. This blissful,_ heavenly_ moment would cease, and she would have to find another source of entertainment to quench her endless thirst for _fun. _

God, this girl was so perfect.

What was wrong with her?

Why was she so _fucking _perfect?

Those moans that were controlled so well grew higher in pitch—the stranger was close, but she was holding back. Her fingernails raked so violently into the redhead's back, she was sure that she'd leave red claw marks on her freckled skin. But she was fine with it. Maybe she could remember this stranger by those scars. Face still buried in her soft chest, the redhead kissed her pale skin, which was now glistening under a thin layer of sweat.

Odd. She was sweating, but she was still ice-cold.

_Just what are you?—_the redhead wondered silently.

The platinum blonde's voice filled the emptiness of the room. Her moans bounced off the walls and it happened again—her mind wander around the same thought: was it possible for _him _to hear? She wondered if she was doing him proud. The picture of him smiling, welcoming her into his arms was her ultimate desire, her _reverie_. After all, _he _was the only one who cared for her. She would do anything, _absolutely _anything for him. But then…

She looked down.

This girl was innocent. This girl, _finger-fucking _her so relentlessly, kissing her skin with so much delicacy, and holding her… so _lovingly…_ She was innocent. Was it really right to just use someone like this? All thoughts were erased when could hold back no longer—the platinum blonde exploded, coming violently into redhead's palm; her liquids flowed freely down her thighs in small amounts.

To the redhead, the sight was almost romantic. She watched the platinum blonde lunge forward, hide in her neck as her body shook. It was cute; she rocked her hips, riding out the last of the aftershocks. She didn't know how else to describe this—it was just… it was utterly romantic.

Then the redhead fell back into the pillows, letting the stranger lie above her, shaking, and then she rewrapped her arms around the delicate figure. She inhaled again, with hopes of finding a new scent, but once again, there was _nothing._

So she simply rubbed this poor creature's back.

Not long after, she felt a kiss on her neck.

The stranger pulled back, smiling.

_There was something about that smile._

That was it, it was a sad smile. Look, her inner brows furrowed upwards—it was as though she was crying. _Such a deceiving smile._

Such a deceiving smile, but she couldn't help herself. The redhead reached up to cup her cheek. That smooth, soft, _soft _cheek. "You're so beautiful," —it slipped out again.

The stranger's expression did not change, but her actions did. Pulling back, she framed the smaller girl's face with her cold hands. She could see it, the icy temperature from her skin stunned the girl slightly, but she pressed on. "I'm not," she tried to widen her smile.

But, in turn, those inner brows only arched higher, making her expression appear even more sorrowful. She closed her eyes when the blonde leaned in—their foreheads touched.

"I'm anything _but_," she whispered.

The redhead gripped onto the fabric on the back of the stranger's blouse; she breathed in sharply. _Fuck_, she wanted to kiss her. She wanted to kiss her and tell her that everything was going to be okay. _She just wanted to kiss her so badly. _But no… _no_, she couldn't do that anymore.

All of a sudden, she didn't want to help her anymore.

"But you are," the platinum blonde spoke up again. She continued in another whisper, "… a-and I want to kiss you."

Her eyes widened.

_No._

The stranger moved in.

_No, please—_

The stranger dropped her eyelids.

_Stop, if you kiss me, you'll—_

She wanted to push her away, _she really did_, "No…"—but then she, too, closed her eyes. She closed her eyes and waited for that moment.

…

But that moment never came.

The redhead saw the sky. She opened her eyes and saw the stranger's azure orbs again. It made her lose her breath, it made her lose her mind. Looking into them pushed her _this much closer _to the edge of sanity, and she loved every moment of it.

The two stared at each other, wordlessly.

_I don't want to take your life._

Her hands followed the stranger's spine, travelling up, up, until she reached her nape. Her hands lingered there.

…

_Pull me in. Why won't you pull me in? _The platinum blonde spoke in her mind. Her chest was contracting—a burst of warmth exploded within her wherever this redhead touched. She'd never felt so warm before. And she really didn't want to admit it, but… she'd never feel this warm even when she slept with _him. _It felt so good… _so good_, she didn't want this to end. She wanted this to last.

_Just what are you, and how are you doing this to me?—_the platinum blonde wondered.

The smaller girl was holding onto her neck, and she was still framing her face. They were still as ice, with their lips millimeters apart. Just a flinch. Just a _tiny _flinch and they could touch—they could _kiss._

But neither moved.

Both _refused _to move.

"You were amazing,"

The redhead felt blood rushing up to her freckled cheeks. Yes, she—usually being the more flirtatious one—was actually _blushing. _"T-thank you."

"May I ask for your name?"

She felt the stranger's cool breath against her lips, and it tickled. Her words, however, did not simply _tickle_; they _stung_. She tried to stall, "Does it matter what my name is?"

"I just want to remember you," the blonde stated gently, "… before… before I kiss you."

_No. Don't kiss me._

She drew back slightly, just enough so that she could still feel her cool breath against her skin. "What's yours?"

The stranger smiled—_the same, sad smile. _"Does it matter?"

"I want to remember you, too."

She circled her arms around the smaller girl's neck, pulling her back in and their foreheads touched again. "Elsa," she leaned closer, "My name is Elsa."

The redhead watched those azure crystals disappear behind pink eyelids, and then she, too, closed her eyes.

_Stop… I don't want to help you anymore._

"I'm Anna."

_I want you to live, so that I can see you again._

_"… _Thank you, Anna."

_No… please, stop…_

… and then their lips touched.

.  
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**a/n: **Like? Hate? Tell me through your reviews, and I'll see you guys soon. :)


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